


Without A Working Title (Open To Suggestions)

by WriteForIt



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Depression, Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-11 05:25:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12928437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteForIt/pseuds/WriteForIt
Summary: Four friends go out.Two get together.One gets hurt.John doesn't want to think about it anymore.A story where no one gets an entirely happy ending.Note: To those of you who don't like it when the OBC are written as the characters, (ex. John's freckles glowed in the light of the setting sun./ Jefferson's bouncy black curls added an entire inch to his already impressive height, not that Alex would admit it.) that's what I did here, so if that's not your thing, then don't read.Personally, I find it easier to write about the OBC/other casts than the actual historical people, because I can relate to them better and gain more inspiration from them, so that is what I do. Not to say that I can't write about either, but hey, *shrugs*.Edit: It is unfinished, so I will be rewriting parts of it and adding an ending.





	1. This Needs To Be Beta'd Before It's Finished, But I Was Too Lazy To Ask Anyone, So Now The Story Suffers.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy new year! 
> 
> 'Work on a holiday story to keep yours truly from finishing certain *other* stories? Great idea!' I think sarcastically as I continue to type.
> 
> Come and complain about the lack of updates on my Instagram, @universeswillfall.

"What did he do to you, John? Do you remember anything specific that would set him off while you were together?" Angelica asked softly, sitting forward in her plush cranberry therapist's chair.

John stared out the window, eyes dull and expression blank. Angelica leaned back in her chair, fingers resting on the bridge of her nose. She signaled to her sister for help, her frustration increasing.

Eliza shook her head at her sister's plea, encouraging her to be patient. She turned back to John, placing a hand on his shoulder in reassurance.

John felt her hand on his shoulder, soothing his frayed nerves. Eliza was the sweet one, always thinking of others and helping anyone who needed it. _No wonder he had pined after her for so long._

She was being nice to him right now, too. These sessions were usually stale when he was here. _Uncooperative._ Angelica had called him once before. _Closed off._

But when Eliza said she was going with him today, he decided to be good and play along.

He was grateful she was here, though he was still confused. _Why? Why would anyone want to be nice to him now?_

It was just a bad breakup, that was it. He shouldn't be dragging anyone else through his drama.

In reality, it wasn't even that bad. It wasn't necessarily **bad**.

_Being told that you're alone, and can't see your friends or family again._

_Being taught how to speak, then punished when you are heard instead of seen._

_Being trained to think you were less than the ground you crawled on._

_(That wasn't **bad** , though. None of his abuse was  **bad** to you, though, was it?_ _)_

Angelica shifted in her chair, lacing her fingers together and setting them gently on top of her clipboard.

"John? Can we talk?" She turned to him, eyes softening as she watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He turned to face her, expression guarded. Eliza leaned forwards, already unsure where this was going.

"About what? I thought we were already talking." He looked up, eyes clouded with irritation.

"Not in that way." She smiled gently, sitting up and setting her clipboard down next to her.

"Then in what way do you want to 'talk', then?" John asked, fingers forming air quotes around the word.

"I want to go deeper, if you'll allow it." She said, leaning closer to John.

"Deeper where?" John asked, irritation giving way to hesitation.

"Into you." She smiled, opting to soothe him a little instead of setting him off further. "Into your psyche, that is." She clarifies, noting John's reaction at the accidental innuendo.

"What do you want to know?" He asked, looking back at Eliza, who nodded at him to go ahead.

Angelica held her breath, praying she could pull this off  "What's today, John?" Sensing his confusion, she elaborated. "John, today is December 20th. What day is that to you?"

"All right, let's wrap it up then." She said, clapping her hands together. "John, I will see you again next week, hopefully?" She said, reaching for his hand to soothe him.

"Lafayette, if you would?" She stood up, reaching the doorway at the same time they did. 

She backed up as they walked in, watching in silence as they walked over to John and kissed the top of his head in greeting.

John rested his head against their shoulder as he stood up, slipping his arm through theirs as they waited patiently.

 _(They're still your friend?)_ His thoughts asked rudely.  _Of course they are._ Lafayette was sweet, honest and loyal, and wouldn't lose his trust that easily. He trusted Lafayette totally, and they trusted him just the same. 

 _(Thought you at least had better sense than that.)_ His thoughts snapped, trying to upset him.

 _Stop._ He responded silently, gritting his teeth in annoyance. _(Why should I?)_

 _Because he said he wouldn't do that to us again. He swore that he wouldn't, okay?_ He shot back, anger and helplessness bubbling up inside of him.

 _(And you went with what he said. You **trusted** what he said. You were  **young** ,  **stupid,** and **okay with anything**. Tell us, how long **had** that lasted_ _for you, again?)_ His thoughts taunted, getting louder the harder John tried to tune them out. 

_You know there **were** four of you. Repeat, there **were** four. **Past tense.**_

_Four friends, two possible couples, and one reckless night._

_You **knew** that you would get hurt. You **knew** what would happen._

_No. Stop it. **Stop.**_ He pushed the thoughts down, refusing to think about it. _He needed to be hear himself think. Where he would be able to hear something other than -_

He shook his head hard, snatching his arm back as they stood together in the doorway. Lafayette looked at him with concern, confusion clear in their eyes as he backed away, his own eyes wide and wary. 

"John, what are you doing? Your father is waiting for you, and so are your sisters and brothers. Where are you going?"  They stood frozen on the concrete steps, arm still dangling at their side in shock. 

John shook his head and looked around, eyes darting back and forth anxiously. He needed to clear his head. He needed to _think_ and couldn't do it unless he was alone.

They stepped forwards, following his gaze down the street. They shook their head in uncertainty, trying to find who or what John was looking for.

"John, no. It's not worth it. Running is not the answer." They held out their hand in offering, hoping John would listen and take it.

John shook his head, backing away slowly. "You wouldn't know that, Gil." He turned towards the street. "You wouldn't know anything about why I'm running. You couldn't know why."

He ran, past store fronts decorated like winter wonderlands, the fake snow thick as frosting on the thin glass panes. 

Not thinking about where he was going, he ran faster. _Running from your thoughts is the fastest way for them to catch up to you._

Ignoring the taunts, he sped up, speeding past trees topped with bright golden stars, people standing on corners with bells and red buckets, churches bursting with people celebrating the season blurring together behind him.

He was trying to outrun the hands that still grabbed at his clothes, the ones that used to drag him back in when he tried to get away.

Trying to outrun the bruises, the black and purple patterns on his skin, ones that had been left by the same pair of hands that used to hold him.

He was trying to outrun his past, and he was failing. _He would always fail -_

He slowed down, struggling to catch his breath as his brain struggled to catch up to where his feet had taken him.

He went pale as realization slowly dawned. He was back at the bar. 

 _That_ bar. The one where - 

 _ **No, no, no. Nothing** happened here. There is _ no _reason to be here right now._

"That's what you think." He jumped as a shadow stepped out of the alleyway sitting next to the bar. 

He stopped breathing, certain his eyes were lying. About what - _who_ \- was standing there. This can't be happening.

Alex grinned happily, clearly pleased for running into John like this. 

He walked closer, his bright green blazer turning sinister in the streetlight's dull glow.

"So, what brings you here?" He glanced up at the red and gold sign above them, the fancy script spelling out a single word, a golden crown perched in the center, as if to punctuate the royal theme that the building itself seemed to carry.

Alex glanced back at John with his head tilted, a small smirk on his face. "What have you been up to, Johnny Boy? I'm curious."

John spoke fast, with no force behind his words. "It's - it's none of your business, Alex."

He closed his eyes, feeling the blush creep up his face as he spoke. He was never allowed to talk to Alex like that before, and the new feelings in his stomach made him want to disappear.

Alexander's expression darkened. "Watch what you say, baby." He warned, smirk turning into a sneer.

Alex grinned, laughing it off with his head still tilted to one side. "Has Angelica been the one teaching you this?"

He walked closer, hands hidden in his pockets. John swallowed hard, knowing what would come of that. He backed away slowly, suspicious of the man standing in front of him.

Alexander's eyes followed slowly, watching, tracking. "Self defense, right? Is that what she calls it? Or is it standing up for yourself?" He laughed again, only a few feet away.

John backed away again, a sour feeling growing in his gut. _This won't be good._ "Please leave me alone, Alex."

Alex chuckled dryly, eyes glittering dangerously. "You should really watch what you say, baby doll. You know better than to say something like that."

John swallowed again, throat unbearably dry. "Please go away. We're not together. Please." _I just want to be alone._

Beautiful brown eyes grew cold. " _You_ want to be alone? _You?_ " The sneer reappeared, its owner growing angrier at John's words.

John turned, trying to run, trying to get help, but his feet refused to obey, staying planted where he stood. 

Alex grabbed his collar, tugging him forward. _When did you get here?_ He thought, as a flash of silver caught his eye. 

_Was - was that?_

_Alex looked up at John, all innocence, and sneered._ "Like it, Johnny? It's the same one I used on you before. When you tried to run away the first time, and I brought you back. _Remember?_ " Alex asked, tone dripping with sugar.

**_He couldn't think._ **

Alex gently tugged on the buttons to John's shirt, exposing the smooth skin of his throat button by button. 

**_He couldn't speak._ **

The blade was cold and painful, biting into his skin. His throat felt funny, but he was still breathing, so Alex hadn't done anything too bad this time.

The knife stung his skin again, the blade biting into each of his wrists. He felt the blood run down his arm and turned to watch it fall to the ground.

Alex kissed them both, wrapping them up in bandages before pulling the sleeves back down.

_You can't see how good this looks on you. You look so beautiful, baby girl. Only one last thing to add.._

_Another flash. This time, something soft and lacey. He felt it slip over his head, settling around his throat where the cut had been._

_He traced the initials in the center of the collar. Alexander Hamilton. A.H._

_He couldn't **breathe**._

He couldn't. **_He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't --_**

Lafayette shouted John's name, sprinting down the street towards him.

They finally found him, staring at the sign of the bar, arms wrapped tightly around himself, unblinking.

They walked closer, following his gaze upwards and around the establishment.

The place in question was closed for the night, its red and green lights twinkling in the darkness. The wreath on the door was a deep green, decorated with bright red ribbon inlaid with gold. The now dark insides broadcast a healthy green tree, practically loaded with red and gold ornaments and brimming with presents underneath for the regulars.

They stared at the sign absently, only interested in the person standing beside them. They turned towards him, eyes brimming with tears.

"John. Please listen. I want to know what you're feeling." 

No response.

"I want to know why you ran. I want to help you. We all want to help you. Please, if you're there, say something, anything."

"Please." They begged, not knowing what else to do. The tears spilled over, leaving streaks down their cheeks.

They called out gently, unsure of his mental state at the moment. 

"Today was the anniversary of that day." He said quietly, speaking suddenly, and refusing to look in their direction.

Lafayette sniffled, raising their head to focus on him. "What?" 

"That night we went out. The night he - the night that Alex and I.." He shook his head in embarrassment. Tripping up on his own words? Alex would hate that. **_He would need vocabulary lessons when they got home -_**

He felt Lafayette pat his shoulder, the same way Eliza had earlier. "It's all right, mon ami. He's not here, and you are not there. We know what he is capable of, and we are here for you." They stood up straight, wrapping John in a protective hug that seemed to last forever.

When they finally separated, they wiped away his tears as John continued with his story.

"This was the day that Alex and I finally got together. The day that we became official." John looked up at Lafayette, who wrapped their arm around his waist comfortingly. 

"That night at the bar, right? When we went out for drinks together?" Lafayette looked down at John, who was resting his head on their shoulder.

John nodded twice, closing his eyes as he talked. "Alex talked me into getting together. I was into it already, cause, well, I was head over heels for that boy. But I agreed to it on my own. He didn't force anything, it was a decision I arrived at alone."

John continued to talk, words rushing into one another. "And like that, I was on board with it."

He shrugged, awkward at talking about things he had tried so hard to bury. "It was fine for a while. He would bring things from work, we would sit and spend time together, go places together, and I was happy."

"We were happy." John corrected himself, breath catching in a bout of panic.

They turned towards him, reaching out to reassure, and felt him step back, shaking his head fiercely. "No, Gil. Not this time. This time, I need to get this out." He swallowed, throat still dry.

He started again, barely breathing. " We were happy. But he changed. He grew.. colder. He became calculating and cruel. He would say things.. things.. that really hurt to hear."

John looked up at the sky, tracing the patterns his father had taught him when he was a little boy. He swallowed hard, still unable to swallow the fear he had been feeling.

"When I asked him to stop, he did. He swore he would stop, and I listened. I trusted what he said, anything he said I did, like a lovesick little puppy." Brown curls swung from side to side angrily, bouncing along in time to a nonexistent beat. 

"I just... I.." Out of words to say, he leaned against Lafayette, the smell of their favorite jazmine scented shampoo soothing to his razor sharp nerves.

"It's okay, John. It is okay to be angry, or sad, or disappointed right now. You need to ." They pulled him closer, wrapping their arms around him and rocking back and forth.

"I will be right here." They repeated gently, ruffling his hair as they separated. "Let's go stay at the Washingtons' tonight, okay?" 

John nodded, smiling sincerely. He turned to walk away, taking one last glance at the bar.

"I still own you, John." Alexander's eyes glowed behind him, unearthly green sparks blending with the brown he knew and loved. "Body and soul. Every inch. You belong to me."

John stiffened at the sound, hairs standing up on the back of his neck. He knew it wasn't real. None of it was. But that didn't stop the feeling of dread threatening to swallow him whole.

He shook it off, steeling his shoulders before turning back to Lafayette with a wide grin.

 _Goodbye, Alex._ He thought, ignoring the shadow in the alleyway boiling with rage.

"Yeah. Last one there is a burnt baguette!" Laughing, John took off running towards the Washingtons', certain he was going to beat them this time.

 He lost by a ponytail. (And a leg.)

After arriving at the Washingtons' and being greeted warmly by both George and Martha, Lafayette recounted what happened at the bar to an audience of six.

George Washington sat quietly, eyes focused on Gilbert until their story was done. When they stopped speaking, he rose, the ice in his glass clinking softly as he sat it on the table beside him. 

 

 

 

He touched his neck where the collar still sat, the gleaming silver initials burning his skin.


	2. First Draft - Wanted To See If There Was Anything I Could Use In This One.

"What did he do to you, John? Do you remember anything that happened when you were together?" Angelica asked softly, sitting forward in her plush cranberry therapist's chair.

John stared out the window, expression blank and unyielding. Angelica leaned back in her chair, fingers resting on the bridge of her nose. She signaled to her sister for help, her frustration increasing.

Eliza shook her head at her sister's plea, encouraging her to be patient. She turned back to John, placing a hand on his shoulder in reassurance.

John felt her hand on his shoulder, warm and soothing. Eliza was the sweet one, always thinking of others and helping anyone who needed it. _No wonder he had pined after her for so long._

She was being nice to him right now, too. These sessions were usually stale, with not a lot getting done when he was here. But she had asked him to cooperate today, and who says no to when Elizabeth Schuyler asks them to do something?

Though he was grateful, he was confused. Why would anyone want to be nice to him?

He'd been through a bad breakup, that was all. He didn't want to drag anyone else through his drama.

In reality, it wasn't even that bad. It wasn't necessarily **bad**.

_Being taught_

_Being taught how to speak, then instructed to speak only when you're spoken to._

_Being taught that you were less than the ground you crawled on._

 

Angelica shifted in her chair, lacing her fingers together and setting them on top of her clipboard.

"John? Can we talk?" She turned to him, eyes softening as she watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He turned to face her, expression guarded. Eliza leaned forwards, already unsure where Angelica was going with this.

"About what? I thought we were already talking." He looked up, eyes clouded with irritation.

"Not in that way." She 

He wanted to stop this. He wanted to stop this, now. He turned to Eliza, silently begging for it to end.

She nodded, gesturing to Lafayette to 

 

"All right, let's wrap it up then." She said, clapping her hands together. "John, I will see you again next week. Lafayette, if you would?"

She sits up in her chair, watching in silence as they walk over to John.

Lafayette walked over and waited for John to look up again, patiently holding out their arm in offering.

John stood up, taking it without a second thought. Anything to get away from this.

This was Lafayette, and they were his best friend. They wouldn't hurt him. They swore on it, after all, all those years ago.

 _They all swore on it with alcohol, of course, because what better way to honor your word than with another round of poison?_ They were younger, and crowded inside their favorite bar, just another night on the town between friends. 

There were _four_ of them. There _were_ four. Past tense.

_Four best friends, just another night out on the town._

_Who knew that one night could be_ _the beginning of the end?_

 _No. Stop it. It doesn't exist._ He forced the thoughts to stop. He had to stop thinking. He had to stop remembering.

He shook his head, snatching his arm back as they stood together in the doorway. Lafayette looked at him with concern, confusion clear in their eyes as he backed away, his own eyes wide and wary. 

"John, let us go home. Your father is waiting for you, and so are your sisters and brothers. They want to see you again."  They stood frozen on the concrete steps, arm still dangling at their side. 

John shook his head and looked around, eyes darting back and forth anxiously. He needed to clear his head. He needed to _think_ and couldn't do it with any of them around.

They stepped forwards, following his gaze where it landed down the street. They shook their head helplessly, looking around for anyone that could help. 

"John, no. It's not worth it. Please, mon ami." They held out their hand in offering, praying John would snap out of it and go home. 

John shook his head, backing away slowly. "You don't know that, Gil." He turned towards the street. "You don't know what it's worth until you go through what I've been through."

He ran, past store fronts decorated like winter wonderlands, the fake snow thick as frosting on the thin glass panes. 

Not thinking about where he was going, he ran faster. 

He ran past trees topped with bright golden stars, people standing on corners with bells and red buckets, churches with worshippers celebrating all reasons for the season.

Trying to outrun the hands that still grabbed at his clothes, the ones that used to catch him. That always brought him back when he ran.

Trying to outrun the bruises that were still healing, ones that had been left by the same pair of hands that used to hold him.

He was trying to outrun his past, and he was failing. _He would always fail -_

He slowed down and looked around at where he was, his thoughts still struggling to catch up to his feet.

And felt his world dropped out from under him.

He stopped short as realization dawned. He was back at the bar. 

 _That_ bar. The one where - 

 _No. No. Nothing happened here. There is_ no _reason to be here right now._

"That's what you think." A shadow stepped out of the alleyway sitting next to the bar. 

He stopped breathing, certain his eyes were lying about what was standing there. About _who_ was.

Alex grinned, clearly pleased for running into John like this. 

He walked closer, his bright green blazer turning sinister in the streetlight's dull glow.

"So, what brings you here?" He glanced up at the red and gold sign above them, the fancy script spelling out Reign, with a golden crown perched in the center of the word, as if to punctuate the royal theme that the building carried.

Alex glanced back at John with his head tilted, a small smirk on his face. "What have you been up to, Johnny Boy? I'm curious."

John spoke fast, with no force behind his words. "It's - it's none of your business, Alex."

He closed his eyes, feeling the blush creep up his face as he spoke. He was never allowed to talk to Alex like that before, and the new feelings in his stomach made him want to disappear.

Alexander's expression darkened. "Watch what you say, baby." He warned, smirk turning into a sneer.

Alex grinned, laughing it off with his head still tilted to one side. "Has Angelica been the one teaching you this?"

He walked closer, hands hidden in his pockets. John swallowed hard, knowing what would come of that. He backed away slowly, suspicious of the man standing in front of him.

Alexander's eyes followed slowly, watching, tracking. "Self defense, right? Is that what she calls it? Or is it standing up for yourself?" He laughed again, only a few feet away.

John backed away again, a sour feeling growing in his gut. _This won't be good._ "Please leave me alone, Alex."

Alex chuckled dryly, eyes glittering dangerously. "You should really watch what you say, baby doll. You know better than to say something like that."

John swallowed again, throat unbearably dry. "Please go away. We're not together. Please." _I just want to be alone._

Beautiful brown eyes grew cold. " _You_ want to be alone? _You?_ " The sneer reappeared, its owner growing angrier at John's words.

John turned, trying to run, trying to get help, but his feet refused to obey, staying planted where he stood. 

Alex grabbed his collar, tugging him forward. _When did you get here?_ He thought, as a flash of silver caught his eye. 

_Was - was that?_

_Alex looked up at John, all innocence, and sneered._ "Like it, Johnny? It's the same one I used on you before. When you tried to run away the first time, and I brought you back. _Remember?_ " Alex asked, tone dripping with sugar.

**_He couldn't think._ **

Alex gently tugged on the buttons to John's shirt, exposing the smooth skin of his throat button by button. 

**_He couldn't speak._ **

The blade was cold and painful, biting into his skin. His throat felt funny, but he was still breathing, so Alex hadn't done anything too bad this time.

The knife stung his skin again, the blade biting into each of his wrists. He felt the blood run down his arm and turned to watch it fall to the ground.

Alex kissed them both, wrapping them up in bandages before pulling the sleeves back down.

_You can't see how good this looks on you. You look so beautiful, baby girl. Only one last thing to add.._

_Another flash. This time, something soft and lacey. He felt it slip over his head, settling around his throat where the cut had been._

_He traced the initials in the center of the collar. Alexander Hamilton. A.H._

_He couldn't **breathe**._

He couldn't. **_He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't --_**

Lafayette shouted John's name, sprinting down the street towards him.

They finally found him, staring at the sign of the bar, arms wrapped tightly around himself, unblinking.

They walked closer, following his gaze upwards and around the establishment.

The place in question was closed for the night, its red and green lights twinkling in the darkness. The wreath on the door was a deep green, decorated with bright red ribbon inlaid with gold. The now dark insides broadcast a healthy green tree, practically loaded with red and gold ornaments and brimming with presents underneath for the regulars.

They stared absently, only interested in the person standing beside them. They turned towards him, eyes brimming with tears.

"John. Please come home." 

No response.

"Please." They begged, not knowing what else to do. The tears spilled over, leaving streaks down their cheeks.

They started to call out, certain that he was gone

"Today was the anniversary of that day." He spoke suddenly, not looking in their direction.

Lafayette sniffled, raising their head to look at him. "What?" 

"The day we went out. The day he - the day that Alex and I.." He shook his head in embarassment. Tripping up on his own words? Alex would hate that. He would need vocabulary lessons when they got home -

"It's all right, mon ami. He's not here. And you are not there. You don't need to be afraid of him any longer." They stood up straight, wrapping John in a protective hug that seemed to last forever.

When they finally separated, they wiped away his tears as John continued telling his story.

"This was the day that Alex and I finally got together. The day that we became official." John looked up at Lafayette, who wrapped their arm around his waist comfortingly. 

"That night at the bar, right? When we went out for drinks together?" Lafayette looked down at John, who was resting his head on their shoulder.

John nodded twice, closing his eyes as he talked. "Alex talked me into it. I was into it already, cause I loved him, y'know? But he really talked me into it. He convinced me."

John continued to talk, words rushing into one another. "And like that, I was on board with it." He shrugged, awkward. "It was fine for the first couple months. He would always bring flowers, and kiss me, and I was happy."

"We were happy." John corrected himself, breath catching in a bout of panic.

They turned to reassure, and John shook his head again. "No, Gil. Not this time. I need to get this out." He swallowed, throat still dry.

He started again, barely breathing. " We were happy. But he changed. He would say things.. to make me feel bad about myself."

John looked up at the sky, drawing patterns in the stars with his eyes. He swallowed hard. "And I believed him. And I listened, and followed like a little puppy." Brown curls swung from side to side, bouncing in anger. 

"I can't believe I did." He leaned against Lafayette, their chest warm and familiar, their light floral scent comforting to his razor sharp nerves.

"It wasn't your fault, John. Remember that. It was never you that started it. And you never deserved it." They pulled him closer, wrapping their arms around him and rocking back and forth.

"It was never you." They repeated gently, ruffling his hair as they separated. "Let's go stay at the Washingtons' tonight, okay?" 

John nodded, smiling sincerely. He turned to walk away, taking one last glance at the bar.

 _Goodbye, Alex._ He thought, ignoring the person that he knew wasn't there.

After arriving at the Washingtons' and being greeted warmly by both George and Martha, Lafayette recounted what happened at the bar to an audience of six.

George Washington sat quietly, eyes focused on Gilbert until their story was done. When they stopped speaking, he rose, the ice in his glass clinking softly as he sat it on the table beside him. 

 

"I still own you, John." Alexander's eyes glowed behind him, unearthly green sparks blending with the brown he knew and loved. "Body and soul. Every inch. You belong to me."

John froze, turning towards the sound he knew wasn't real. Alex was standing there, furious. Waiting for him to respond, to interact with him. 

He shook it off, turning back to Lafayette and grinning. 

"Yeah. Let's go."

 

 

He touched his neck where the collar still sat, the gleaming silver initials burning his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Has anyone seen season four of Turn yet? If so, we are now friends, and there is nothing you can do about it.
> 
> (Except rant about it in the comments below.)
> 
> Peace! 
> 
> \- Author


End file.
